


The Sound of our Love Song

by infinitewritings



Series: Raabta [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Cisco knows whats up, Enemies to Lovers, Eobard is still bad, F/M, Good Friend Cisco Ramon, HR is angry, Manipulative Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells, Shady Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:42:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23817109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitewritings/pseuds/infinitewritings
Summary: The silence of the year, all they wanted to do was rewind to when there was music in the wind and each other's smiles in their lives.After World War M, the world had managed to fall in a new normal. Until the Snow's walked into STAR Labs with a plea and a case ready to change HR and everyone's life.
Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Earth-19 Harrison "HR" Wells, Earth-19 Harrison "HR" Wells/You, Earth-19 Harrison "HR' Wells/Reader
Series: Raabta [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767091
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Sound of our Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> They summary is trying too hard.  
> The title comes from Lana Del Rey's song Love Song. It's not necessary but I listened to it a lot while writing this definitely consider giving it a listen! 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you M for you constant support and inspirations. You make it fun, easy and exciting.

_It wasn’t supposed to be a date._

_She only wanted to ask him questions about a case. She had approached him when he walked out of the courtroom, shaking hands with his clients with smiles—he won another case saving another life. The client gave him a hug which he took gladly—something she could never do for—and HR kept his eyes focused solely on them. She clung onto her bag and paced slowly and softly closer to him, not wanting to interrupt the moment. From the light squeeze from HR on the client’s shoulder to small pats from the clients on his arm, she watched the entire moment and saved every detail, burying it in her mind, and keeping it for herself._

_As they walked away, HR’s gaze turned to her, locking eyes. For the second, she watched him. His hair was nicely slicked back in soft curls. His dimples were bright. The sun shone through the large windows around the court house, lighting up the brown strands in his hair. His soft light blue eyes watched her as she blinked back to the room. Everyone walked around them, not disturbing them and blending in with the background._

_Clearing her throat, she tried to break the silence until he did it for her._

_“Are you done for today?” He smoothed his tie under his bag and motioned her to walk together._

_“Not completely, I have to sit in with a colleague later tonight. How was your case?”_

_“It’s harder when the clients are older. You want to fight the entire bad world for them. But, we managed to come out on the other side.” She nodded, and they continued their walk. With her lip between her teeth, she focused her breath for her next question._

_“Do you…do you have a minute?” HR watched her as he pulled his glasses higher on his nose. “I wanted to go over something with you. It’ll only take a minute, it’s about a case.”_

_That’s when she found herself sitting across from him, both of them hunched over her notes and the various papers that had spilled out of her bag. The both gripped pens as their eyes were trained on the paperwork. Her laptop sat beside them and his notebook laid beside them. She explained her ideas and he poked holes in her arguments. HR offered new recommendations and ideas. He threw out his own ideas and mentioned old cases he remembered. They spoke with their hands and tried to keep their discoveries in whispers for each other._

_They were on their third cup of coffee._

_Jitters brought out the wine menu as they continued with their discussion. They switched their coffees with a glass of wine and rested the glass on the scattered papers in front of them. For them, the table was too wide, and they continued to hunch forward as they continued their stories. The paperwork was forgotten, and the clock ticked closer to her next appointment, but she was busy imagining the picture HR was painting for her. She watched how the sun lowered its brightness, but HR’s eyes kept shining._

_It wasn’t supposed to be a date. It was a work call—an appointment, a consultation. But, now it was silent as HR watched her and she watched him. Their glasses were pulled towards each other with their hands resting at the stem of the glass. They didn’t run out of stories, they just wanted to save the details they were too busy missing before. As they continued at the edge of their seats with their elbows resting on the table, closing the distance of the table, their breaths slowed. She could feel his breath, every steady sigh and long inhale. Their breaths matched, and their eyes didn’t blink. The sighs and inhales, the soft hiss of the coffee machine, and the conversations of the customers became distant background sounds—sounds they buried in the back of their heads._

HR stood in the front of the large building. The long police tape ran around the entrance and a rush of whispers flew around. Constables watched the perimeter, and everyone made sure to not waste any words with anyone. A small crowd began to gather around the laboratory and the backs of the constables straightened as they stared everyone down. 

It had rained all night, thunder roared through the skies and lightening lit up the entire night sky. The wind was angry as it threw every tree against itself as if their roots were shaking. But, HR didn’t remember any of it. Every inch of him was buzzing since he opened that door last night and watched the mother and daughter shiver inside, bringing in the rain as they walked inside. The windows shook against the wind and the loud slaps of the rain echoed in the room, but the sounds buried in the background as he and Cisco focused at the guests. 

Caitlin had done most of the talking. Her mother just listened. HR knew about her mother, she was a woman of few words and more actions. He also knew she worked with the government’s health safety and biodefense department, as her daughter worked with the science department in the university, while the father worked with Thawne. But, she sat the closest she could to her daughter with her hands squeezed between her legs and her gaze to the ground. Caitlin was talking with her hands as she shivered in her clothes.

In between the retelling, Caitlin took large sips of the tea to calm her breath, but her voice kept shivering. 

She told them about her dad’s long nights. 

She told them about the new research he was developing. 

Caitlin told them about the arguments with Thawne. She recounted the conversation she had with her father a few hours before he died. 

Then, she told him how she walked into the laboratory carrying a late-night snack and an encouragement for her to dad to come home. The security guard had waved her in and told her about the two of the busiest men were still in the building, working away. She had made sure to avoid Thawne’s office—she didn’t want to create an accidental meeting with him zig-zagged to her dad’s instead.

That’s when her voice broke. Tears spilled down her cheeks and her grip on the blanket tightened as her other hand searched for her mom. 

Caitlin saw her father sprawled in the middle of the room, bled out, staring up at the ceiling. 

In between her whimpers and her sniffles, she managed to tell HR that Thawne was in the room. He had walked out of the adjacent room in her father’s office, wiping his hands. They had shared a gaze and she watched his mind calculating the next move while her mind tried to the same. HR could see how she only had flashes of the next moments. She was running. Things dropped after her. The elevator took too long to arrive. She looked for the stairs. She could hear Thawne’s slow steps behind as her hands shook when they wrapped around the doorknob towards the stairs. Her breath was stuck in her throat and her lungs felt like they were sinking. 

When she managed to get to her mother, her body was shaking, maybe it was from the wind or the piercing blue eyes that never stopped watching her. 

Caitlin cried in front of HR, for the first time, hours later. 

As the mother and daughter sat together, sipping away their cold tea in their silence Cisco had made himself busy by scrolling through the police reports. Caitlin had already called the police to the laboratory and they had already pulled Thawne as a suspect and he was already with a lawyer. They had managed to close off the building and HR planned his next steps as the sun tried to break through the clouds. 

“Why do they keep letting you come through?” The rustle of the police tape brought HR back to the crowd and the wet morning around him. A small crowd began to gather around the building

“Because, Patty, I keep giving them hope that coffee might just come back.” HR flashed a smile as he waved a to-go cup in front of him, “however, I also bring a peace offering.” 

“You really think this a tea morning?”

“It’s the thing all the kids are drinking nowadays, I hear it's going to pick up.” Following Patty inside, HR watched every corner, memorized every wall, and noticed every misplacement. She read him the details of the case and he matched Caitlin’s story with the reality.

HR saw the security guard nod her inside and watched her take the middle elevator out of the three. The background music in the elevator played like she heard it play as she reached her father’s floor. The floor was filled with agents, the yellow tape continued to surround the scene and HR kept his eyes peeled to every detail, visualizing Caitlin’s story. His gaze noticed the ajar door in the corner—the door Caitlin rushed through to get away from Thawne. He watched her fighting with the doorknob as she kept glancing behind her, feeling Thawne creeping up behind her. Patty pointed him to Doctor Snow’s office and as she got busy with her officers, HR retraced Caitlin’s steps as she continued to move by him. 

She had dragged her hand along the wall as she jogged further away from Thawne and her father’s office. Every few seconds she glanced behind her shoulder—making sure Thawne didn’t think she was running away but also keeping her furthest distance from him. Her hair was already flying around her and her breaths were slow echoes. Her hand was searching for her phone in her coat, hoping to punch the numbers to call the police. Caitlin hadn’t cried yet and her mind kept buzzing 

Reaching the office, HR stood at the door. CSI and officers swarmed the room. They ruffled through the drawers in the desk and checked the corners of the room. A large tape marked the spot Caitlin’s father lay and HR watched Caitlin drop the food from her hands, her body go numb and her eyes freeze at her father. Her breath had stopped in her throat and her body shivered as her mind continued to register her next step. The room had felt cold to her, she had mentioned. The room was a mess, she recounted to HR. Moving towards the desk, HR stood behind it and watched the door. 

He watched a scream build up in the back of Caitlin's throat as the memory of her lingered in the room. As she was about to kneel beside her father and plead to him to wake up, a door had clicked. 

HR’s eyes traveled to the door—the washroom. Agents stood inside, marking down details and picking up fibres and snapping photographs. He was messy, she had said. His usual patted down hair was pulled in different directions—like he couldn’t stop running his hands through it. His perfect suit looked baggy. The creased collar was popped and the shirt unclean. He looked like he just walked out of a fight, she said. He twitched his shoulder at her when he recognized her. 

That’s why she had run. 

There was a table Caitlin had tripped on, it was knocked over. HR couldn’t tell which table it was—everything was in place. 

“Are you seeing something my officers aren’t?” She was wrapping her head around different scenarios.

“Did you find anything in the washroom?” HR asked Patty.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Should we be looking for something?”

Ignoring her question, HR continued as he tried to memorize everything in the room, “What was the murder weapon?” 

“That’s the weird thing, you know.” Patty lowered her voice to a whisper. "He was stabbed but I don’t think that’s what killed him.” 

“What makes you say that?” Papers were piled above one another, notes HR has seen on Cisco’s board.

“He had freezer burns all over him.” HR stared at her. He’s heard of incidents where victims had turned up with freezer burns. Victims with darkened wounds and frozen bodies. There were reports of small ice crystals spiralling from the wound and frozen skin cells. Reports described the signs of the ice crystals formed small snowflakes creating a beauty in their destruction. 

He’s heard the stories from the Flash and seen his injuries after the War. HR’s heard the stories of how the moment the ice meets the blood stream, and everything slows down. The eyes freeze, the heart beats faster but refuses to pump any blood. The body becomes cold and shivers run throughout the parts of the body that are still trying to fight. The ice moves along the veins leaving behind frozen cells and pathways as it reaches the mind and the heart and engulfs it. The wounds from the Frosts during the War weren’t just stab wounds, it was always what the ice did after it was plunged in the victim. The Flash still had his scars. The wounds from where the Frost would try to hold hi in their grip, trying to squeeze his life out. He had talked about how the blood vessels tightened the more he tried to breath.

“That can’t be right.”

“There have been some recent cases picking up again with the same signs.” 

“You think it’s a meta-human?”

“I won’t be surprised.”

“But—” HR also knew the War had taken the last of the Frosts. Every single person with the possibility of Cryokinesis was accounted for in that stadium—specifically by the Flash. “You said he had freezer burns all over him, any previous case of the Frosts it was always one entry wound. This one is different?”

“He had multiple entry points. That darkened skin that comes with Frosts’ victims was everywhere. Almost like one freezer burn wasn’t going to be enough.” HR filed every detail in his mind with his fingers ready to shoot off the details to Cisco. 

One thing HR knew for sure was that any victim before the War only ever needed one entry point. He sifted through information he had received after the War and all the records he read accounting every little event. Even he made notes when he was standing behind the lines staying prepared to help. The Frosts were the hardest to fight and the hardest to defend against. Cisco and he had promised their team a proper a defence, but it hadn’t worked.

The highest number of victims were with freezer burns. The two were left recording the aftermath of their failed promise but with the reassurance that nothing pointed to the possibility that a Frost could come back. 

“You’re prosecuting him, right?” Patty broke through his growing images of the War. 

Clearing his throat and bringing himself back, “that’s the plan. It seems like an open and shut case. There was a witness and he was at the scene of crime.”

“You have a point, but don’t be too confident. I hear he’s got his favourite lawyer.” A shiver went down his spine and the words echoed in his ears. His heart convinced him its not what he was thinking. His mind was convinced and linking the facts together. 

“His favourite lawyer?” His heart was beating in his throat, just hoping and praying that it was the exact opposite what was playing in his mind. 

“The one who saved him last time, DeVoe’s associate.”

The entire air in the room disappeared.

HR’s heart dropped, and his eyes froze.

His mind raced through excuses as his fingers tried to grip the strap of his bag. HR could feel his lungs trying to expand but failing to come up with any air. The world stopped moving.

Every idea, plan, and image of the case disappeared from his mind and everything lost meaning. She could say no, HR told himself. He hasn’t officially received information from Eobard’s defence and everything could be different than he was thinking. But, as much as he tried to convince himself, HR knew who Eobard’s favourite was. The entire world knew. 

After bumping into an officer, HR found himself in front of the elevator, still hearing Patty’s voice in his ears. It could have been a mistake, a mistaken identity even, but Thawne had managed to pin images in HR’s mind that he would never forget. 

HR knew that it didn’t have to be her, but he also remembered the way Thawne talked about her the first time she saved him. He called her mesmerizing, dazzling, and bewitching to the reporters. HR had watched Thawne’s eyes focused on her and he had noticed how Thawne’s lips would curl into a smirk whenever she spoke in his favour. When she traced the courtroom detailing her arguments, he watched her. He had watched the way her hands moved, and his eyes tracked how she moved from one corner to the next. He looked so helpless sitting in the room as she calmed him. HR remembered the day she called Thawne on the stand and he answered her questions with a plea in his voice—asking her to see his innocence. His voice was slow and controlled. He locked his gaze with her, his blue eyes were pleading, and he weighed every word with a pause and a heavy sigh. Thawne had made sure to make the entire courtroom disappear around her—making sure it was just the two of them in all of this.

While HR watched. 

Thawne had kept his smirks for the judge and the prosecutor. 

Thawne had called her his favourite when he walked out of the courtroom, a free man. 

HR knew she wasn’t feeling love for Thawne. She was much smarter than that. When she’s working, that’s all there is for. She didn’t climb up to DeVoe’s most trusted associate just but being enough—she was exceptional. Anyone watching her work, listening to her words, and feeling her passion would be mesmerized by her. Their world would be convinced by her words because she would be feeling the exact words. She’s moved juries to tears, she’s spent nights working on her arguments, and HR was there to witness all of it.

As he watched her stick up for her work and for justice, HR felt like his heart wasn’t his anymore. HR saw Thawne noticing those little details and while she got more tangled with working and upholding the law, she forgot fighting for justice.

Their wins were shared. Every time he’d walk out of the room with a win and every time she did, they were there for each other with a hug and bright, proud smiles. That win was the start of the many wins for each other that they watched from afar. 

*****

_It was silent in the office. A few associates were busy packing away the little bit of their time they had before they had found themselves back in the same spot the next morning. She had her papers out, the files were stuffed with different news reports and different data with corroborated claims. The clock ticked to another hour as her eyes were trained on the documents in her computer. The Thawne Industries logo was stamped on every page and every page had sentences blackened with only a few words left to paint a picture. Pulling information from the visible words, it was a speech about his newest chemical promising help for the removal of emeralds._

_She saved the document in an unassuming folder on the desktop. She opened another video, a video of Eobard corresponding to the speech she just read. The speech didn’t carry the same words. The sentences were scattered, and the meaning had changed. Instead of announcing a new chemical advancement, it was words of praise for himself. Flipping through her folder, she scattered the pages looking for the accompanying piece of news that raised the questions. Circling key words, she stuffed the page back into the folder and pulled another pile of papers from her bag._

_Her research continued her home and consumed her time and energy. She was giving up cases that DeVoe was trying to proudly hand to her. She had pulled up her blinds in her office and managed to periodically cancel her appointments so she could focus on her main story. She felt the rush of a journalist and the adrenaline of the lawyer trying to uphold justice. Her phone was filled with contacts of journalists and messages of encrypted information that could help her understand Eobard Thawne._

_It was too late, she had already won him the case and he had wiped his hands clean on the tragedy of the chemical spill, but questions floated in her mind. He had apologized to her the first day they met. Eobard spent nights in the office with her, trying to prove his guilt and his innocence. He called in for food, so they could continue their work and he would flash her that smile accompanied with the icy arctic eyes knowing she was getting sidetracked. But now, she reopened every set of words he mentioned that made her doubt him. She unburied the stories she had stuffed away during his case and even pulled out the doubts HR claimed._

_She was met with emails, documents, and videos every day as she tried to piece together the timeline of Eobard’s past and his actions. She connected each piece of accusation with evidence, she pulled apart the prosecutor’s arguments finding strings of truth throughout their claims. She traced the stories of the relatives to pieces of evidence that she tucked away in different folders and files around her office. Every accusation HR had hurled at her about Eobard became pieces for her research. She used every bit of hacking skills Cisco had given her to pull apart information from the Thawne Industries website and the sources of the journalists, so she could strengthen her case._

_The nights had become days and the days were turned into weeks. Her one file had become many—each corresponding to a different suspicion._

_She waited for the document to load. HR had thrown accusations at her about Thawne’s involved with the attacks on mines and small town, along with the ideas of different experiments since World War M, and withheld antidotes. It was rare that she would find a piece of evidence that was credible enough to back those claims. She needed direct links._

_The current document loaded slowly. The office had fell silent, the last associate had entered the elevator and was showing himself out. This document had the logo stamped on every page. It noted Eobard Thawne’s name. It was addressed to an associate of his and a list of chemicals were scattered throughout the page. There were quantities next to each item. The next page had a diagram. It had noted the dimensions and the uses of the weapon. It mentioned it was a liquid weapon designed to be used in a water stream. It carried a specific additive, used to affect certain genes in the human body. The next page had a report—signed by Doctor Snow. It mentioned antidotes to dangerous reactions and the possible reactions to the additive._

_There was a date at the end of the document and a town’s name. It listed the steps on how to work the additive to the stream. It was the same town that Eobard was accused of harming. It was the same additive the prosecutor kept spitting out during their trial. It was the report of the same event she proved he didn’t do._

_Her eyes stared at her screen. Her breath stuck in her throat and her eyes watering to remind her to blink. She said in her chair, alone in her office, and shivering. The trial replayed in her head and her pleads with the jury and her sad glances at Eobard echoed around her mind. She considered reaching out to HR, so she could hold his arm and he could hold her. She wanted to sob in his arms and tell him she did something bad. The ticks on the wall clock banged against her head and her lips trembled as the numbers kept shining on her screen._

_She was wrong._

_Her shaking fingers were reaching for her phone when her door opened, and Eobard walked through, firmly closing the door—and the world—behind him. His strides were long and quiet. He had a smirk playing on his lips. His coat was unbuttoned with the collars popped. His blue eyes shone through his glasses. Eobard never broke eye contact as he placed himself in the seat across from her. Relaxing himself in the chair, he titled his head at her._

_“I wasn’t sure we’d meet this soon again.” His voice was calm and collected as he watched her close her folders and place her hands firmly on them. Eobard watched her trying to decide the response._

_“Personally, I was hoping it would be in different circumstances.” He scanned the room around them. Books were lined on the coffee table in the middle, a few folders sat on top. A board was beside her desk with dates connecting with names and locations._

_“I see you’ve been busy.” Her heart was beating in her ears. Letting out a sigh, Eobard leaned on her table._

_“I must say, I don’t like having conversations with myself.”_

_“You haven’t left anything for me to say.” Her voice was much more of a whisper than she thought. If she spoke any louder, her voice would break into gasps. Her arms shivered as he pulled himself closer._

_“How did you know? I was very careful.”_

_“It was what you said.” Every conversation they’ve had played through her ears as her mind picked on every red flag._

_“And you did what? Connected it to the news articles?” As he continued speaking she could see his breath in the air as she kept shivering in her spot. The temperature had dropped. "It’s a madhouse with those. One can’t get enough of me and the one is probably plotting my murder.”_

_“Each piece of news has some string of truth.” More words she said, the more out of breath she kept feeling. Eoabrd leaned back, pulled off his glasses, and watched her squirm with her answers. Every word with accompanied with a breath and her ears had turned a slight shade of red. "It’s just how deep you’re willing to look.” A small chuckle finally left his mouth. The laugh cut through any of the confidence she had managed to find._

_“So…” Never breaking eye contact with her, Eobard leaned himself on top of her table again and slid his glasses back, securing them behind his ears. “You’ve been thinking about me.”_

_Silence. She couldn’t deny it. Her days had become all about Eobard and his history. His sharp, cold arctic eyes stared at as if they knew._

_“You know, I wanted to ask you to dinner. But, out of fear of rejection I didn’t. I can’t really hear nos.”_

_“I can imagine.” Another chuckle._

_“Would you have said yes? Before you went on your little expedition.”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“You know what I think? I think you would have. But, do you think he would have objected? He…what’s his name?”_

_“HR.”_

_“Yes, Harrison Wells. It’s…” Eobard smirked, “…elementary isn’t it? He hasn’t gotten over the nicknames.”_

_No comment._

_“I liked what he did for World War M. So many people don’t understand his hand in all of it. He’s working on a book, right?” She watched him fish around in his jacket. She sat frozen in her spot, fearing he would take her movements as an insult. “Either way,” he continued, “I don’t have a lot of time to waste.” He put a knife on the middle of her desk and gave her a wink._

_Paying no attention to the knife, he started to gather her papers placing them into a neat pile on the corner. He stalked around her office, picking up little notes and cleaning up her entire research. He opened the books on the coffee table, flipped through her vinyl collection, and erased her board. Still in her spot, she shivered. Her mouth shuddered, letting out a small breath of air that she could see. He left her computer for last._

_Pacing close to her, he stood in front of her computer and scrolled through her files—opening only the ones he suspected. The closer her stood to her, the stiffer her back got. She tried to keep her eyes away from the knife and focus on anything else in her room—something to help her calm her breath. There was a photo of HR on her desk which instead of comforting her, made her tear up. The computer’s soft clicks were silenced with his whispers. He kept chatting—to the room, to her—about his thoughts of her—with his eyes were trained on her documents._

_She could feel the cold radiating from him, even through his coat._

_Sighing after deleting the last file, he turned towards her. Leaning his hand on her armrest, he pulled himself closer to her bringing himself at eye level. Turning her head towards him, their eyes met, and Eobard watched her lip shiver. They stared in each other’s eyes as the office, the building, the world disappeared around them. He had closed the distance between them so much she could feel his breath._

_"I would hate it if my case was your last. I don’t know how Wells would move forward from that. I really wished we could do our dinner.”_

The click of her office door blew away the haze around her. Clearing her throat and pulling her coat closer around, her grabbed the closest papers and flipped through them. She shoved the entire moment into the dark recesses of her mind and bit her lip to calm her breath. 

“You ready for Thawne?” She felt her eyes roll when DeVoe's voice flew through her ears.

“I’m trying, you’re the one who is interrupting.” DeVoe stayed at the corner of her door and kept her eyes trained at the papers in front of her. She knew her eyes were bloodshot—maybe from the lack of sleep or the fact she could still feel the tears from seconds ago. 

“Are you ready for this? Your track record has been lacking.” 

“I won his last one.” A scoff travelled through the room as he wheeled away. 

Letting out a loud sigh, the sound echoed through the room. Her eyes wondered around her room as the room felt larger than life, making her feel smaller in her own space. The bookshelf across from her desk loomed above her head and stood further away than usual. The windows surrounding her were too large with the world stretching further from her. The sunshine barely touched her windows. Every ray was tucked away from her, hidden. She stood in a dark, cold fog that separated her from the crowds and the relationships. She was told the higher up she sat in the skyscraper, the more content she would feel. But while the world stretched further from her, the office walls closed in on her, numbing her fingers and leaving her breathless. 

At one point, the office was surrounded with decorated comforts. There was a line of vinyl’s in her bookshelf with a small record player beside them. It was an excuse for her to walk away from her desk and lose herself in her music. It was an excuse for HR to pull her away from her papers and spin her into his arms.

It was moved out months ago.

The coffee table in her office had essays stacked together for Cisco for his lab. It also had reports of the lab for the three of them to read away from Randolph. HR’s book drafts were stacked in a file folder for them to edit through. Those papers were stuffed inside a cabinet. HR and she had stuffed a shelf with law books of their favourite cases. Now, she stopped staring at it.

Her favourite spot was the corner of her desk and the photograph it held. A small framed photograph used to smile at her and echoed of the sunshine they shared on the beach. The photograph was reminder that her life was not just her work and her clients—a happiness in the bleakness. Today, the spot stood empty and in its place was a small, white marble Shiva status. Instead of bright sunny faces, it sat at the corner of her desk watching her and reminding her that she should be better. Instead of warmth, it was a watchful eye.

According to HR, it was also a reminder for her to keep calm and take a breath. 

However, even the statue couldn’t calm her breathing. Every breath was stuck in her throat, not reaching her lungs. She stared at the statue hand in hand tightening her grip around her fingers trying to create warmth for her finger tips. She tried to wish for yesterday to come back and the sun to shine through her windows. But, with her numb fingers, the papers screamed at her. The papers tried to present the case to her with crime photos lining out the murder and the accusations. The police’s preliminary analysis tried to present the defence with the phone records of the victim’s daughter and the very small transcript from Eobard’s questioning. The video of his interrogation was paused on her computer—it only had his chuckles and his eye rolls. It had lasted for half an hour when DeVoe had taken him away.

The case was open and shut. There was no eye-witness. There was no weapon. There wasn’t anything pointing to Eobard other than a scared daughter working through her trauma. She knew she could fight this one easier than the first case. But, she didn’t _want_ to defend him. She didn’t want him swimming through her mind again and she didn’t want his eyes watching her and reading her movements. She didn’t want to be stuck in a stare with him. 

After their last case, she could feel Eobard’s lingering scent around her office. The corner with her computer was colder and the more she stared at her desk the more the knife would flash back. Eobard had traced every inch of her office that day, he slowly picked away at her all her personal and intimate pieces taking them away from her. He made sure to remind her that nothing was hers.

Instead of reading the case files, shuffling through the police photographs, and watching his interrogation she tried to come up with an excuse to throw the case back at DeVoe. She considered telling him that she didn’t believe Eobard. She considered telling him that Eobard threatened her. Any excuse would suffice if it meant never having to sit next to Eobard. But, she also knew that DeVoe would never believe any of her excuses and even though she’s lost more cases for the firm recently, he still wouldn’t take it away. And yet, she still had to try. 

Flashing a quick look at the statue, she stuffed the papers back inside the file and stood up on shaky knees. Focusing on her breath and her feet, she tried to march out of the office while her mind was still spinning with ideas. She prepared herself to keep her back straight and her will strong. She was just going to say no, and he was going to have to move on. 

As she paced out of her office, an argument bounced around the walls. Hurried and stern voices went back and forth as she moved closer to the sounds.

HR stood in front of her secretary, towering over her and keeping himself from glaring other. His hair sticking up from what she could guess was a lot of running. His hands were busy gesturing and trying to enunciate his point better. The secretary would offer an answer and he was already rolling his eyes. Keeping an eye on him from the corner, she noticed the way he clenched his jawline, defining the jaw more than it was already, and pressed his lips together to keep himself from saying too much. To keep himself from waving his hands too much, he would place his hand securely in his pocket and then whip it out when he got too worked up. His eyes looked extra blue under the hues of the lighting, but also highlighting the sleepless dark eyes. HR wasn’t wearing his usual suit and tie that she was getting used to seeing, but his sweater hugged him, defining his arms. 

“HR, what are you…?" She couldn’t complete her sentence when his eyes moved towards her. 

“How dare you?” His voice rose higher. It was deeper, it was hoarse. It was angry.

“Excuse me?” She backtracked as he stalked up closer to her. The world had disappeared around them. Her secretary’s explanations muted, and the eyes of every other associate vanished. 

“You did it again? You took Thawne's case. Again?!” HR's hands flew around her as he accused her. He wasn't trying to yell, he had convinced himself that he was going to talk to her personally, behind closed doors. He promised himself that he wouldn't wave hands around her and embarrass her. And then, the secretary explained to him that she was waiting for Eobard. As he watched her, he searched for shock and surprise. He was hoping for an explanation that he was wrong. But, her eyes grew wide and her breath stopped in her throat. 

“HR—I didn’t…it was assigned to me. I got it yesterday, how did you even—”

“Of course,” a scoff, “given to you. Like the last one. You never really ever have a choice to do. You’re just a senior associate almost a partner, but you still don’t have a choice. You’re just strung up with their decisions, like last time."

"If you would let me speak--'

HR took in a deep breath, "You're defending him?"

“Yes.” Her eyes matched his as she looked up at him. He was angry, but he was searching for a different answer. 

“Again?” Again, hoping for a different answer. 

“Yes."

“After all he’s done?"

“He was cleared of all charges!”

“You _know_ that doesn’t mean a clean slate! Especially when it comes to Thawne.” 

“HR, you need to calm down. You’re already convinced that he’s guilty. We promised each other that we will uphold the idea that everyone is innocent until proven guilty. It’s the same for him.”

“He _is_ guilty! You can’t tell me that you don’t feel it in your bones. He was the reason for so many deaths last year.” 

“Again, HR, cleared of all charges.” She felt like her heart was ready to burst out. Even if Eobard wasn’t there, even though DeVoe wasn’t there, she could feel their stares on the back of her neck.

“He murdered his business partner. He killed someone’s father. Someone’s husband. He killed an innocent man.” 

“You can’t prove that! There is no murder weapon, even the police couldn’t hold him the entire time. All they have a scared daughter. That doesn’t mean murder. You know that. It’s just a simple case, why are you reacting like this?” Everyone’s stares became strikingly obvious. Her every word and action was being saved into memory.

“Why does it have to YOU?!” HR curled his fingers into a fist and pulled his hands away from her face. She watched him take a few deep breaths, close his eyes, and saw him calm his heart. He was shaking—not from anger—as her words registered and settled in his mind. “Why does it have to be the woman I love,” he lowered his voice. 

The question echoed around her mind. It wasn’t for her to answer. She wanted to hold his face in the palms of her hand and stare into his bright, oceanic eyes and tell him the world doesn’t matter as long they were together. She wanted to remind him that Eobard is just another stain on their relationship. Instead, she stared up at him while his eyes travelled around her face. 

Peeling her eyes away from HR, she levelled her voice. “This is just another case, HR. Just like any other case. There’s a crime, a victim, a grieving family, and a suspect. He isn’t anything special. He’s just another name for another file.” 

“What spell does he have on you? Why can’t you see the other side?”

“There’s no other side to see. There are the facts and then the other emotional side.”

“You just don’t want to say no, don’t you?”

“I don’t decide all my cases.” 

A laboured breath. “You know, there isn’t anything for you to prove to the world anymore. You did it.” HR’s voice was softer. "You achieved your goals. You're working up in the clouds, in an office overlooking a city, and creating a name for yourself. But, remember how you said you wanted to fight for the people? Do you remember how you said you wanted to fight for the good people and make your parents proud? Is this fighting for the people?” HR motioned to the entire office. “Or did you mean fighting for rich conglomerates and wealthy brats?" A shiver went down her spine. Her hands felt warm and her heart beat faster. Her throat was breathless as her eyes narrowed at HR.

"HARRISON!" She shoved against him. "How **dare** you? You're at my workplace and surrounded by my colleagues and you think you can just strut around with your accusations. I do my job to the best of its abilities. I do my work, the work that I have been trained for. I fight the cases that I have earned. You have no right to drag my parents into this. This is my work, this is what I do. It's not my fault that you don't like it. My cases and work does not need to be approved by you!"

HR watched her continue to shove him away and poke at him. He watched her glare at him and square her shoulders as she continued to defend herself. "Why are you making it so hard to keep loving you, jaan?”

Everything froze. 

The entire thing was a whisper. It wasn’t for anyone else to hear. It was their word. It was their sound. The entire moment was their love. 

She had called him meri-jaan such a long time and she doesn’t even remember what exactly made her say that. But, she was setting the table for dinner and HR was busy buried in his papers. She had knocked on his door to invite him to the table. Come to dinner, meri-jaan, she had said and had walked away. It was HR who watched her walk away with the words replaying in his head. 

She had called him her life. And so casually too. 

The papers around him had made no sense anymore. The sentence he was writing was not worth completing. When he walked to the table, she continued as nothing had changed and, in that moment, he just watched her. They had proclaimed their love at this point, but this was more. She had given him her life and he held such a delicate, important thing in his hands and he couldn’t understand what to do with it—except watch her and bounce her words and her voice in his head. 

Then, he called her jaan. He called her life. And, she had frozen. She knew he knew what the word meant, she never thought she’d hear it from his mouth. The word sounded special from his mouth, echoing with his voice. 

They were each other’s life.

The way they spoke those words was a dance in their minds. 

But, she hadn’t heard that word in over a year. They hadn’t looked at each other long enough to slip back into their normalcy. Now, he stood in the middle of the office whispering the words she craved for, but he watched her with pain and hurt and anger. 

“HR…I still—”

“Is there a problem?” Her spine straightened, her eyes widened, and the world came flooding back. Their faces followed the voice and she felt shivers travel through her entire body. Eobard stood with DeVoe by his side. He looked relaxed and calm with his smirk. Eobard didn’t break eye contact with HR as he twitched his neck. 

“Wells.” 

HR straightened his back and traced his steps to Eobard and they stood face to face, ignoring the world around them. HR’s gaze glared burned around Eobard who continued to respond with a soft smile. 

“Trying to threaten the competition?” Eobard’s voice was sharp and husky. 

“Trying to make sure you end up in prison.” A laugh escaped Eobard. 

“I hear you were hoping for that last time. Didn’t work out very well.” Eobard crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes moving between HR and her. 

“It wasn’t me last time.” HR glanced at her. “And I don’t lose.” 

“Good thing I have the best then.” 

“It’s just going to make taking you down much more fun.” 

“Mr. Wells, I think you should be seeing yourself out.” DeVoe broke through their world. 

Moving in closer to Eobard, HR whispered, “see you in court.” Bumping their shoulders together, HR marched out of the office. 

Watching HR walk out of the door, she watched Eobard turn back to her. She straightened her back and remembered the shiny, glaring knife that once sat on her desk beside her photograph of HR. 

Freezing their gazes, Eobard gave her his tight-lipped, coy smile and raised his hand and tilted it into a half wave. 

*****

HR breathed in the fresh air and let the wind wash over him. His fists finally uncurled, and his heart pressed back into his chest. He had walked into the office with the intention of asking her to step away from the case. He was memorizing the way he would keep his calm and hear her side. HR had told himself that they would work this moment together and convince her that Eobard wasn’t worth her time. Even Cisco had told him to stay calm. Cisco recommended that he just reminisce about the past instead, tug at her heart strings. 

Then, junior associates ran by him while sharing the amazement of how quickly Eobard was bailed by DeVoe. 

There was anger for DeVoe and there was hatred for Eobard but when she defended him, and HR felt everything shatter around him. They had stopped seeing eye-to-eye a long time and he was still hoping and trying to find the woman he met at the bookstore, the woman pacing around the aisles to calm herself before starting her first day. HR had tried to search for the woman who stood against every bit of evil even if it meant keeping herself in danger. But, instead she was unhappy and angry. 

“She took his case, Cisco.” HR spoke into the phone.

“Did you yell at her.” Cisco didn’t even need to ask, it was a matter of fact.

“She didn’t even try to back down!” 

“You were at her office, HR!” 

“I was in the lobby.” Cisco gave no response. “The secretary wouldn’t let me in! The situation got out of hand.”

“I’m sure. HR, how you expect her to come back when you go around yelling at her?”

“I didn’t go there to bring her back, Cisco. But—” When they used to work together, HR had noticed how she changed her tone to accommodate the situation. She stuck to the facts when she saw she was in the losing side. She never appealed to the ethics or the heart when her argument was weak. Today, she couldn’t help it but line up facts. “I need to win this case. I don’t know what’s going on, and why she’s only seeing the Thawne perspective, but I need to show her that he’s bad.” 

Cisco listened to HR’s slow breath and knew it wasn’t the wind that sent him in shivers. HR had shown up on Cisco’s doorstep after his argument with her. He didn’t talk about it, but the argument was constantly playing in his mind. He didn’t take any cases during that time yet still tried to bury himself in work. He tried to read old cases, he restarted his entire novel, he worked more with the Flash, and he kept the newspaper away from him. Instead of keeping his laboratory open, Cisco tried to make HR breakfast and tried to pick up her phone calls before she could hang up. 

One day, Cisco found HR at the drums set gripping the drumsticks with white knuckles. She had just won the case. The television only spoke about her win and about the way Eobard couldn’t stop talking about her. HR’s lower lip quivered. His jaw clenched. His breath was slow and controlled. Time to get back to work, HR had said dropping the drumsticks behind, ignoring the echoing sounds and walking away from them and the images of her flashing on the TV. 

“I need to make him lose, Cisco.” There were many cases in HR’s law career that he wanted to win. He’s always wanted to do it for the people, the ones who desperately needed his help. This was the first time HR wanted to ruin someone, to wipe the smirk off their face, and to drag them back to the ground from the clouds. 

“I think I may have a way to help. I have someone who could try to explain the freezer burns on Doctor Snow’s body. The coroner will not be able to, but he will.” 

“Who is he?”

“Remember I told you about someone who was looking into the dark matter found at the World War M site?”

“…doctor Allen?” 

“Well… Barry. But, ever since the fight ceased, he’s been looking into the after effects of the battle. The land has been reacting differently and every particle that he found shouldn’t be there. He had mentioned something about the dark matter and meta-human powers.”

“Cisco, are you saying Eobard has powers?” 

A long sigh. “I won’t put my seal of approval on it, but…we may need to consider it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This was doozy, thanks for making it to the end.


End file.
